The 64 members of Fire Lake’s sophomore class are trapped in a place where morals have no meaning, and zero rules apply. But Noah’s deaths have trained him–hardened him–to lead the strongest into the future . . . whatever that may be. And at any cost.

Min Wilder knows that survival alone isn’t enough.

Trapped in a violent world where brute force passes for leadership, it’s tempting to lay back and let everyone else fight it out. But Min’s instincts rebel against allowing others to decide who lives and who dies. She’s ready to fight for what she believes in. And against whomever might stand in her way.

Praise for GENESIS

★ ”[A] heck of a page-turner . . . Fans of The Hunger Games novels and the CW series The 100 will discover much to enjoy here . . . A cracking good yarn and excellent sequel.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review

“Nemesis was a page-turner, and Genesis has plenty of fevered action and startling surprises, especially as the book nears its conclusion . . . Fans of the first book will certainly want to read this and look forward to the trilogy’s conclusion” —Booklist

“[T]his dark sequel to Nemesis . . . . reads like a technological retelling of Lord of the Flies.” —VOYA

“An exciting sequel that will delight young science fiction readers with its video game–esque story line.” —School Library Journal

“Reichs knows exactly how to mix action, suspense, and characters into a breathless read. This is one thriller that will keep you up into the night.” —Marie Lu, New York Timesbestselling author of Warcross

“Equal parts adventure, mystery, and heart, Genesis is a gripping, mind-blowing story that leaves you begging for more. I loved it!” —Danielle Paige, New York Timesbestselling author of Dorothy Must Die

Chapter Two—MIN

The temperature rose and I began to sweat, my slick fingers hammering the buttons even though I knew it was useless. My breathing quickened as my pulse throttled up. Resetting aside, I really didn’t want to free-fall six stories down an elevator shaft.

The first cable snapped with a metallic warble, and the car lurched. Frightened yelps echoed above as Chris and Mike scrambled off the roof. Then something popped with a high- pitched thrum and the elevator dropped another foot before jerking to a stop.

The car vibrated, tremors shivering up my legs as it battled with gravity. The twins began murmuring excitedly. Made shuffling noises. I tried to claw open the doors—hoping I’d fallen even with the next floor—but they refused to budge.

I punched the door, then sank down with my back to it. Rested my head against the warm metal. My hand throbbed. I’d broken a knuckle or two, but it didn’t matter. I was going to die, and that was that. My hand would reset with the rest of me.

The thought wasn’t scary—I was well past that by now—but the fact that death was no longer frightening made me unaccountably sad. It felt alien. Like a vital piece of my humanity had been stripped away.

If death couldn’t scare me anymore, what was left? What was the point of anything? I shook my head at the wrongness of it all. Everything about the Program felt so . . . futile. How could there be justice in a world with no consequences? And with- out justice, what connected us as human beings? What was the point of existing at all?

Something clattered down one side of the car, stopping directly level with me.

A faint hiss echoed in the shaft.Sweat exploded from my pores. Scrambling away from the noise, I pressed back into a corner. Buried my head between my knees and made myself small.

Damn it, this is going to hurt.

A roaring thunderclap. The wall exploded, shards of metal lacerating my arms and legs. Flames licked my skin and I screamed. Then my stomach did a somersault as the floor dropped from beneath my feet.

The elevator fell. I fell with it. Contact. A horrible crunch. My legs smashed up into my body. The roof slammed down on top of me. I gasped in pain, unable to scream as my chest caved inward.

Flashes of light exploded behind my retinas. The world became soft and indistinct. The scent of copper filled my nose as I began to choke on my own blood.

My head swam. Images cycled through my mind at break- neck speed.

Me and Tack, way up high in a giant oak tree.

My body intertwined with Noah’s on a crappy trailer-park couch.

My mother, sitting in her chair, rocking as she knit while a storm raged outside.

Brendan Reichs was born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. He graduated from Wake Forest University in 2000 and The George Washington University School of Law in 2006. After three long years working as a litigation attorney, he abandoned the trade to write full time. He lives in Charlotte with his wife, son, daughter, and a herd of animals that tear up everything.